


It's Not Permanent

by MilenaDaniels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel/Dean Winchester Angst, Dean Winchester-Centric, Episode Tag, Episode: s09e03 I'm No Angel, M/M, Men of Letters Headquarters, Season/Series 09, Separations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilenaDaniels/pseuds/MilenaDaniels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What follows the last scene of 9x03.  (Spoilers for the episode, naturally)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Not Permanent

**Author's Note:**

> I finished 9x03 very grateful that they cut the last scene off where it did because I wouldn't have been able to stand the pain of it. And then I ended up writing it. Go figure. Also, this was written in less than two hours and it's a style of writing I don't think I've used before, so while I think it works, my apologies to anyone who finds it a little off. :S

Dean spends a minute just standing in the war room after Ezekiel leaves - to Sam's room, not for good.  From where he's standing, he can just catch sight of Cas eating his burrito at the table, taking in the sights of the bunker he hadn't had time to appreciate the last time he'd been here.  The thought of those moments, of how he'd been, how _they'd_ been, weighs on him suddenly.  He can't picture himself moving from this spot.  Walking to the next room and telling Cas -

He looked different now, Cas did.  Smaller somehow despite the hoodie.  Maybe it was because it was old and worn, the material stretched and thin, apparently pulled out from a charity box.  He couldn't let Cas go back out there in just that.  With just the ratty clothes on his back.  How could he? He'd have to give him some extra shirts or something.  He needed a real jacket, something that would always keep him warm. And boots, and extra socks.  Cas didn't know how fast socks went in a hunter's life. He didn't know -

Okay. So he'd give him socks, and a jacket - he was nearly the same size, Dean was sure he'd find a good fit.  Boots might be an issue but Dean could give him money and guide him through the necessities of buying new ones. 

He doesn't have time to teach him Cas to drive, so he'd have to bus out, but maybe they could get through to Garth, or even Charlie, and they could help him out.  Charlie could probably whip up a fake driver's license better than Dean's at this point and there wasn't a person on Earth as patient or willing to help out as Garth.  It could work.  They'd be much more vulnerable looking out for him than here at the bunker, but it could work.  Maybe.

The crinkle of aluminum foil from the other room momentarily breaks into his thoughts.

 _Money_. 

Definitely have to give him money.  There was no way in hell Cas was going to be back on those streets and being hungry, or sleeping under bridges.  They'd been using the card scams less and less as the years went by but Dean knew just how to get Cas a couple to get started. 

He could do this.  He could tell him.

The first forward step is hard.  The second step is infinitely easier but the last few are a torment.  There's some short bit of conversation that vaguely hurts him but he can't quite focus on, and then he hears himself say, "Listen, buddy, you can't stay."

After that, all he registers is wide, confused eyes that make him angry.  If it were Dean being told by the people he trusted, the people he believed would be there for him, being told that he had to get out, he would have shut right down.  He knows it.  He would hear the words and think, "yep, knew the other shoe would fall sooner or later."  But not Cas.  No.  Thousands of years he's been alive and still hasn't clued in to the fact that the people you love will disappoint you.  Still giving those sad eyes when he should be getting pissed and breaking shit if not bones.

"I don't understand." Cas says, slowly, as if he can't remember the order the words are supposed to be in.  He puts his burrito down on the table, half-eaten, and that pisses Dean off too.  He pushes it down.

"It's not permanent," he starts, hoping Zeke was listening from all the way in Sam's room.  "It's just...you've got a ton of angels on your tail and we can't afford to let them know about this place yet.  We've already got Abaddon looking for Crowley, we've got Kevin still working on getting the spell undone. Bringing attention to the bunker could break us on either side."

Castiel lowers his gaze, absorbing words that Dean wasn't saying, he just knew it. Words like,

_You let me down one too many times, buddy._

and

 _You left us, you left_ me,again, _for_ Metatron _._

and

 _You keep fucking up and I can't have that near me_.

and

_It's your fault we have to deal with every goddamn angel who was in Heaven now._

Words and feelings that, if Dean was being honest, he can't refute but that, nonetheless, would never stand in the way of keeping Cas close.  In other circumstances, he might have spoken them out loud just to give Cas a reason for why Dean was being a jerk to him while making him a breakfast quesadilla. For why he glared and gave him the cold shoulder for a couple of weeks until one day he offered him a beer and took him to the movies to tell him he was over it.  Never like this, though. 

And he wants Cas to protest.  He wants him to point out the massive flaws in his logic so that Dean knows he's not just accepting what he thinks he deserves.  But he also can't afford that.  Because if Cas mentions the warding, or how the bunker is literally the safest place on Earth for them all, Dean will have no way to keep arguing.  This entire situation hinges on Dean not having to sell what he can't believe in.  So he speaks the real magic words instead.  The ones that will prevent any protests.

"And you know, Sam's still really under the weather.  You saw how easily April took him out.  He thinks he's better but it's day to day.  If Heaven's hell rained down on us, he wouldn't be up for it."

And Cas?  Cas says, "I understand," to the surprise of no one in the history of man and angelkind because Cas never undertands a damn thing but is always convinced he does.  And Dean suddenly wants to sit down on the chair Cas has offered.  He wants to be at eye-level with him and just take him by the shoulders and shake him.  He wants to yell at him and chastise him because how could he believe for a second that Dean didn't want him here?  That time and again he didn't keep losing Cas against his will, just to find him and try to make him stay?  And that every time Cas was gone, it hurt more and more deeply inside him.  Clawed and tore at him like a physical wound that only _just_ started scabbing over the next time they saw each other.

But he's also grateful.

So he nods, hoping he looks regretful but not having any real control over his expressions at the moment.  Not that it matters anyway, since Cas's eyes are glued to his boots on the chair. 

In the end, it takes Cas exactly 10 minutes to find the meager items he'd left trailing behind him as he made himself at home in the bunker.  He then waited the three hours for Dean to gather up his care package.  Dean thinks for a moment that they might be okay when he smoothes a leather jacket over Cas's shoulders and is rewarded with a hint of a smile, but neither address it.  Cas dutifully tries on everything else Dean hands him (which amounts to half of Dean's wardrobe but he can always replace what he lends), then puts it in the rucksack Dean provides and then they were at the exit.

Cas wants to say goodbye to Sam but Dean doesn't have the lie he'll tell his brother made up yet, so he encourages Cas to let it go, and he does.  Dean tries not to get furious over it. He also tries not to remember that Cas had literally died less than a day ago, that Dean had held his lifeless face in his hands and then accidentally prayed to an angel to get Cas back.  He tries to forget the terrified clenching of his stomach every time in the past week he'd thought of Cas all alone and human, running from angels who wanted him gutted.  He tries to forget that this is the man he's walking out his front door.

When Cas eventually says, "Goodbye, Dean," he tries to clear his throat but doesn't quite manage it. 

Undeterred, he catches Cas by the sleeve of his new jacket.

"Hold on," he says, avoiding Cas's gaze just in case he spots any hope reflected there.  He isn't reconsidering - how can you reconsider a decision that isn't really yours? 

He digs the single most important item he's giving Cas out of his pocket with one hand - the other not having relinquished its hold on the leather sleeve - and holds it in front of his face.

"You hold on to this." He jerks the phone in the air to emphasize his words. "You memorize the numbers I put in it because if anything happens to this phone, you buy a new one with the cards I gave you and you program them in, you hear me?"

Cas nods, something soft coming to his eyes.

"If you have trouble, you ask the salesgirl or something, okay?"

Cas nods again, almost looking annoyed.  The guy has one basic cell phone for a while and he thinks he can handle anything. 

Cas doesn't reach up to take it from Dean, though.  He lets Dean lift one side of his jacket to tuck the phone in the inside pocket himself.  Lets Dean replace the jacket and smoothe it briskly over his chest without saying anything.

"Hey." Dean calls, wanting Cas's full attention. "Just because you can't be here, doesn't mean I can't come to you when you need it."  Consciously bypassing 'need me' makes Dean feel like a failure.  "I'm serious. Anything you need, you call me and I will come _running_ , you hear me?"

"I hear you." Cas says, his voice sounding rougher than usual.

"This isn't permanent." Dean says, again after a moment of standing in silence.  It feels like a promise.  It feels like an invitation.  It feels like an admission.  But Cas's eyes are finally trying to hide his doubt behind his small smile and Dean hates himself.

When he finally walks out of the bunker and into the night, Dean tries to forget the moment of clear and overpowering relief at Cas calling him name after he was healed.  Tries to forget how perfect things had been for a few hours after one of the many most horrible moments of his life.  Tries to forget the plans he had, the hopes he had for them all finally being together in one place.  But then again...no.  He wants to remember that feeling.  He's going to hold onto it and keep it safe.  The next time he brings Cas back to the bunker - for good, finally - that's how it's going to feel, and he definitely needs something to look forward to.

It's not permanent.


End file.
